


The face I love the most on this planet

by ViggyNiggy



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man/Deadpool - Joe Kelly (Comics), The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb), spider man - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Fluff, Insecure Wade, Insecurity, Love, M/M, Self Loathing, SpideyPoolWeek, insecure, perfect boyfriend peter, poor wadey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 11:55:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10099511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViggyNiggy/pseuds/ViggyNiggy
Summary: In which Peter wants to take a photo of Wade and it doesn't turn out well.





	

**Author's Note:**

> [White]  
> {Yellow}

* * *

'How to find love when you're insecure'

Wade Wilson clicked at the little x in the top right corner of his screen to close the page. The disappointment that settled in hit hard and sudden, even though it had been expected.

[Seriously, did you think a fucking WikiHow article was magically going to cure you?], the white box chimed in. Yet, before Wade could even begin to think up a reply, the box continued. [Started from the bottom and somehow managed to get even lower]

“You know, maybe it didn't help because I clicked on the wrong article. I don't want to find love, I've got my Petey Pie.”, the man reasoned and reached up to scratch the back of his bald head, only to pull his hand back in mild disgust at the bumpy texture of his skin.

[Yeah and you're not insecure, you're really gross looking.]

{He's not!}

[He is.]

{Okay he is, but at least he has a good character}

[He doesn't]

{Think I might have to agree with you on that one}

“Are you guys finished already?” Wade was starting to get annoyed. White and yellow had become more and more annoying over the past few days and white's comments had progressively gotten meaner and more intentionally hurtful. While Wade had learned to deal with them to a certain extent and ignore their comments for the most part, the constant insults were starting to tire him out. Like a wet cloth that was wrung out aggressively, his humor seemed to seep out of his body the more they talked. Constant dripping wears the stone, but in this case the dripping was more like a solid stream of water, one of those pressure washer kind of streams.

Wade got to his feet, stretched out thoroughly and pulled the hood over his head as he took the few steps through the small, somewhat shitty but still cozy apartment until he was standing behind the chair his baby boy was sitting on, criss-cross applesauce as always, seemingly sunken entirely in whatever it was that he was doing. Which was, of course, something Wade had no idea about.

The hug came sudden, yet natural, as Wade's arms wound around the younger man's body from behind, encasing him, pulling him as close as he could and suddenly feeling like the chair was in the way.

"Hey, easy, big boy, you're going to crush me!", came a soft, familiar voice. Peter reached up to caress Wade's head as his eyes stayed on the paper in front of him, but instead of skin his hand met the thick material of his sweatshirt, which made  his head turn to face his boyfriend, whose face was still buried in Peter's very own shoulder.

“Why are you wearing this thing again? You don't have to hide around me, you know? I like looking at you.”, he assured Wade, voice warm and gentle. The topic wasn't one that hadn't been discussed already between the two of them.

[What a liar.]  
{Not a liar. A lover}

[With glasses thick enough to be bullet proof.]

“Please just shut the fuck up!”, Wade hadn't realized that he had started to yell, until he looked up to notice the frown on Peter's face, and the worry in his eyes.

“Sorry.”

“Are yellow and white being mean again?”

Instead of an answer Wade's lips found their way onto Peter's in a soft, lingering kiss with far too much tongue and far too much sound in general. This wasn't a kiss of affection, no it was a kiss of desperation and a kiss of a man who needed reassurance that he was loved by the one person he cared most about.

“By the taste on your lips I can tell that someone stole my yogurt again, I swear if it was the one with the smarties I will not fear to tickle you when you least expect it.”, Wade mused after pulling away, the scarred lips slightly red from the kiss still.

The smile on his lips wasn't fake. Kissing was an antidote to the poisonous self loathing and disgust that Wade knew would kill him eventually. Even if it only killed off all that made him Wade, leaving him a lifeless, yet immortal shell, shadow of what he once had been. Leaving him as only Weapon X and no longer Wade Wilson.

“I'll make it up to you, Wade. Now, let me finish my work, alright?”

As soon as Peter's head was turned back away from him the smile died down and the arms around the lean body weakened and pulled away.

Dirty. His next port of call was destined to be the bathroom; the bathtub, to be more exact. Dirty dirty dirty. He wanted, no, needed to wash the dirty off, scrub his skin until it felt raw and sore. Try to wash the ugly away. Not that it ever worked. But he had to try.

[You know it's not gonna work, buddy.], White remarked very helpfully.

{Doubt has killed more dreams than failure ever will. Maybe today is the day.}

Wade felt too tired to reply to the boxes, too drained and arguing was pointless anyways. As the water started to fill the tub, the older male studied his features in the mirror. The longer he looked the more deformed and bizarre he looked. The longer he looked, the less there was anything human recognizable. Taking in the bumps and scars, the discolorations, Wade avoided his eyes. Those were something that hadn't changed. Bright and big and slightly too close together. Just enough to still be cute. A warm, light brown color that shone beautifully from within when the light hit it just right. His eyes looked so foreign in the grotesque that was his face. A reminder of times that were long gone, like a box of photos, stored away in the last corner of the moldy attic.

{Mirror mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?}

[Certainly not our friend Freddy Krueger right here. Lucky you the mirror hasn't broken yet. Don't test it, though, look away before it decides to do just that.]

{I mean the possibility is there}

Those words were enough to make Wade turn around. The sting of the too hot water was enough to silence them for a few heavenly moments.

 

* * *

 

"Come on, Wade. Please.", Peter repeated for what seemed like the tenth time.

The camera in his hands was still pointing in Wade's direction and looked dangerously much like it was turned on and ready to take a photo of him and therefore immortalize his face. Maybe his fears were a little irrational, but Wade didn't care. Photos weren't happening. 

"I said no."

"But why?"

"Because I..ah forget it."

That was the thing. There was no way in hell Wade could tell his boyfriend that he didn't want to have his photo taken because he felt ugly. Because a, that was something pubescent girls named as a reason right after having done their makeup for approximately four and a half hours and b, the look in Peter's eyes always changed to something hurt and concerned whenever Wade said the word 'ugly'. So that wasn't an option.

"Because I'd much rather make out with you now.", Wade purred seductively, wiggling the hairless skin over his browbone.

He moved in and his lips were almost touching Peter's when he felt a hard push against his chest. This was new. His boyfriend didn't usually shove him away, let alone this aggressively.   


"I thought I'd made it clear at the beginning of our relationship that I'm not about to put up with your bullshit, Wilson.", the tone of Peter's voice was stern and far too harsh for Wade's liking.

"What?"

"Don't act all dumb now, you know exactly what I mean. I'm talking about this thing you do all the time. Putting a hood over your head, spending hours in the bathroom only to stare at yourself in the mirror. I feel like you're more obsessed with your looks than those self declared Instagram beauty gurus are. And I'm not dealing with it anymore."

Those words left Wade dumbstruck. It was the first time Peter so openly voiced his annoyance over Wade's constant whining about his looks. 

[The shit hit the fan.]

{Sometimes I wish I had hands, because I'd need them to eat some popcorn, this is cinematic gold}

[The beauty and the beast. Only you don't turn into a charming prince at the kiss of true love. You turn into a frog.}

"You know I'm trying to pull myself out of the whole bag of shit right now. So it's not helping at all that you're constantly pissing on my feelings.", Wade scoffed, rubbing his face before hitting himself against the head. Once. Twice. Thrice. It became relaxing after a while, and only God knows how long he would have continued to do so, had not a soft hand stilled his. 

"Jesus Christ, Wade.." 

There was no harsh tone anymore. There was only concern. And empathy. 

"You know, you're pretty damaged for someone who can regrow entire limbs within hours.", Peter added silently.

His hands moved to touch his face, follow every crease and crevice, caress every scar and every bump with an amount of love that Wade had rarely ever felt in his entire life. The lithe fingers left trails of warmth on Wade's unruly skin, and drawing out something new. Something unfamiliar. Soon, a deep crimson color had settled in Wade's cheeks and colored the tip of his nose and pretty much the entirety of his ears. 

"You know..", Peter whispered then. "That face you see in the mirror everyday is the face I love the most on this planet."

 

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo, I hope y'all enjoyed this. It's my first spideypool fanfiction so I really do hope that I stayed in character. Any suggestions or constructive criticism is welcome (so are compliments wink wink). Anyways, if you want me to write a story to a certain prompt or w/e let me know!


End file.
